Your Silence is My Comfort
by paintmyworld11
Summary: Bella is completely destroyed after Edward leaves and she tries to "self medicate" with tequila, whiskey-- anything she can get her hands on. That is, until someone shows her how much better off she is without him...
1. Chapter 1

_Josey_

_The drinks are flowing, just like a river, and she keeps going the whole night ends up a blur…_

I sobbed loudly into the empty house, cold hardwood floor beneath my pale legs. The bottle was clutched tightly in my fist, and I hastily wiped away the hair that had gotten stuck to my cheeks before taking another swig. The golden brown liquid burned my throat and the taste made me gag, but something about the element of self destruction comforted me. The fact that it tasted disgusting and burned like hell just emphasized how awful it was for me, and the physical pain made me feel a little bit better. As cliché as it sounds, drinking was the only thing that made me forget about the past months. Made me forget getting abandoned, forget about the tears, the unwanted sympathetic looks, the rumors, the lies, and most of all, drinking made me forget about putting up my façade. The mask that just screamed, "I'm okay. I'm alright. My boyfriend left me, so what?" This was the only time I allowed myself to be broken, to be weak, to let go.

I shivered-- my comfy black shorts and ruddy brown tank top not offering much coverage in the freezing house. I stumbled to my feet but immediately lost my balance, due to the lack of blood flow to my legs from sitting with them crossed for too long. My stomach lurched and the room spun and soon I saw, rather than felt, that I had fallen over. My cheek was pressed on the floor and the tequila bottle lay forgotten in my hand horizontally, slowing seeping out into the cracks and crevices carved into the wood. The smell wafted up into my nostrils and I pushed back the urge to vomit, my mind barely forming a coherent thought.

'Is this what dying feels like?' I thought dying was supposed to be peaceful, less agonizingly slow. It felt as if there were a snow storm taking place in my brain. My skull wasn't big enough to handle all the snow flurrying around in my head and it felt as if there was too much pressure. I needed a release but all I could see was white noise. All I could feel was my whole body tingling in a numbing kind of way. There was a loud ringing in my ears but the last thing I thought was that I must be in hell…

Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

_She's got no limits, she thinks she's so tough…_

My eyes slowly fluttered open, and I groaned as the sunlight filtered in through my window. A few specks of dust lazily floated in the bright rays of light, and any other morning I would have been happy for the new found sun, but today was the bitch of all hangovers. I could still taste traces of tequila, not to mention smell the vomit crusted in my hair, and my head ached like I had been beaten with a sledgehammer. Still, I was lucid enough to partially wonder how I ended up in my bed. The last thing I remember was blacking out on the living room floor, bottle in hand.

Oh, right. After I woke up from my almost catatonic state last night, I staggered up the stairs – only to barf my guts out for hours.

_My arm rested on the back of the toilet seat as I sat hunched over the shiny bowl, wishing to die. My throat was on fire, my stomach felt like a mini ocean with a torrential storm brewing, and I couldn't even think straight. I moaned and waited for the horrible nausea to pass—which never happened. My whole body was thrown forward with such a force that I felt it down to my toes, and I sobbed as I heaved into the toilet._

"_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" I kept apologizing and although I couldn't rationalize who I was apologizing to, I couldn't seem to stop. It didn't seem to hurt though, so over and over I repeated my apologies, crying the whole time. "Please, make it stop. Please!" My body shook violently as I cried, my forehead resting against the cool porcelain. "Forgive me." I begged for an end to the awful retching, for the terrible feeling. I wanted to die. I wanted to curl up into a ball and close my eyes and die. Every time I threw up, it felt as if I was throwing up an organ. Always with the force of a car crash, always with the same heavy weight crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe._

_Finally, after two more hours, it seemed that I had completely emptied my stomach and I dragged myself to bed where I curled up under the blankets—freezing—for a dreamless sleep._

The blankets were caught in my legs as I tried desperately to escape from my bed. Stumbling to the bathroom, I stripped and turned the shower faucets, letting loose the cool spray of water. Waiting, as it warmed up, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under my eyes, from lack of sleep, made me look almost raccoon like—fallen mascara and eyeliner from the night before only accenting them— while my brown hair was incredibly dull and greasy. My skin was an ash color and my face was puffy from all the crying and binge drinking. Red rimmed my eyes, and as I glared at myself—filled with self loathing—I whispered to the broken girl in the mirror.

"I hate you."

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After thoroughly washing my hair and body, I put on a clean cotton t shirt and a loose pair of ragged jean shorts. My damp hair was in a messy bun and I had to admit, taking a shower made me feel a lot better. Not great, but better. I cleared all the dirty clothes out of my bathroom and my room and as I threw them into the washer, I opened most of the windows downstairs—hoping to get rid of the awful smell of booze and vomit. In the kitchen, I found a bottle of Tylenol and swallowed a couple tablets and chugged a huge glass of water. Realizing I was still thirsty, I refilled my glass and drank more water. My head throbbed but I didn't have time for laziness or self pity—Charlie would be home in about two hours.

I ran back upstairs and meticulously brushed my teeth, until the only thing I could taste was the minty freshness of my toothpaste and mouthwash. Satisfied, I walked to the towel closet—at the end of my hallway—and grabbed a couple of old towels that Charlie and I never used anymore. Quickly, I cleaned up the mess I made last night and picked up the bottle of tequila, now empty. I sighed as I wondered how much got wasted, but I kept on cleaning. I poured bleach into the sink, hoping to give the impression that I had taken care of the house while Charlie was gone, while also hoping to overpower the other smells in the small house. My overactive mind worried that he would know something was up—he was Chief of Police, after all—but that just made me more determined to cover up my little one person party. I even went as far to throw away the empty tequila bottle in the neighbor's trash can. Hopefully, Mr. Ackles wouldn't get in too much trouble with his wife, if she ever found it. Just as I lit a couple vanilla scented candles and plopped on the couch, Charlie walked through the door.

"Hey Bells." He looked around the house and for a split second, my heart raced, in fear that he would see through me and would automatically know what had happened while he was gone. Before I had time to show the guilt and panic on my face though, he trudged to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer. Practically falling into his favorite chair, he flicked on the television and then glanced at me questioningly.

"Are you going to make dinner or should I order us some pizza?" I sighed in relief and smiled at him sweetly. Although Charlie was a cop, he was very oblivious—this was much easier than I thought it would be. And why would he ever suspect his seemingly perfect daughter of being irresponsible? I rarely went out, always studied and did my homework, got straight A's, never got in trouble. Little did he know, I was self destructing from the inside out.

"I'll make dinner. What do you feel like?"

"Mmm…Tacos sound good?"

"Tacos sound great. I'll start them now." He mumbled a reply, eyes glued to the screen, and I slipped away to the kitchen.

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**Anyone like this?**


	3. Chapter 3

_Can't walk a straight line; the end of the night she's rough. Her dress whispers reckless, her night starts now as she slips on her necklace._

Charlie and I quietly ate dinner—me occasionally glancing at him to look for any ounce of suspicion on his face. If he did, he certainly didn't show it. I quickly decided that conversation was the best way to go, to distract him and myself—plus, he might think something was wrong if I kept silent for too long.

"How did the meeting go?" The high pitched squeak of a fork scraping against a plate hurt my head, but I fought to keep the pain off of my face. I stared at him, trying to keep my eyes looking wide and interested.

"It went alright…although I don't see why we have to go every damn year." He answered gruffly as he picked at the Mexican rice I had made. "They only do it for the rookies anyway; talking about gun safety, how to keep civilians out of harm's way. Don't they know we had to go to the academy for years before we could even be a cop?" His annoyance at going to a meeting, for all policemen in the county, amused me and I fought to hide a smirk. Leave it to Charlie to be annoyed at a seminar that gives you tips on how to be a better cop. Not only that, but he got to stay at an all expenses paid, ritzy resort in Seattle for 3 days.

"Well, I'm sure they just want to make sure you know what you're doing." I cleared my plate off the table and heard his humph as I walked toward the kitchen. Carefully placing my plate in the sink, I turned on the water and waited for the water to warm up. I turned around to face Charlie, and leaned against the sea green speckled counter, hands shoved deep in my back pockets.

"Oh! Bella, are you doing anything tonight?" Charlie turned around to look at me from his seat in the dining room. Confused, I scrunched up my brow and shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't think so. Why, what's up?" I turned around and squirted a couple drops of lemon scented soap into the dishwater, keeping my head cocked to the side to hear his response.

"Jake wants you to call him. I talked to Billy this morning and he was rambling on about how Jake was all excited to go to some party—probably wants you to go with him." I slowly stopped scrubbing the greasy skillet in my hands and turned around to fully look at Charlie—his tone making me instantly suspicious. He had a strange glint in his eyes and a small smile was forming on his face as he avoided my eyes and ate his 6th taco.

"Okay…" I said carefully, trying to decipher his weird expression. "I'll call him right now." I picked up the phone and quickly dialed Jacob's number, hyper aware of Charlie's eyes on the back of my head.

_Ring. Ring._

"_Hello?"_

"Hey Jake, it's Bella. Billy told Charlie I should call you…" I let my voice trail off, unsure of what to say, and to my surprise I heard Jacob laughing.

"_Yeah, I wanted to know if… you wanted to go to a party tonight? I know, I know it's not really your thing but I just thought we could go together and it would be fun and I swear if you wanted to leave, we could leave-"_

"Whoa there, tiger!" I said, chuckling as I cut him off. That boy sure knew how to talk. "I would love to go. There's no need to convince me—it sounds like fun."

"Seriously?"

"Why do you sound surprised? Do I seem like a party hater?" A smile was playing on my lips and I wasn't quite sure why. Something about being with Jacob made me happy—almost like a temporary band aid. I giggled when I realized I was twirling my fingers around the phone cord, like a clichéd teenage girl talking to the guy she likes. Except, I didn't like Jacob. We were strictly friends, keeping things uncomplicated and easy.

"Bella?"

"Oh sorry, what did you say?"

"I said you could come down at 7. Is that enough time for you?" I glanced at the clock, its bright green numbers reading 5:47.

"Yeah, sounds good. See ya then!"

I hung up the phone and turned around with a big grin on my face. Charlie stared at me—a big smirk firmly in place—and slowly raised his eyebrows at me.

"So, you and Jake are going to this party together?" Once again suspicious, I narrowed my eyes and tried to see what he was getting at. Putting his plate in the sink, he continued. "It's about time that boy asked you out." I snorted and he looked over at me, surprised.

"Oh, it's a hardly a date Dad, if that's what you're getting at. Me and Jake are friends; I like it that way, he likes it this way- don't give me that face." I said as he twisted his face into something similar to disbelief. "Sure, he may wish we were more but he wants me to be happy, so if I'm happy being friends, so is he. Completely Platonic." I finished my little rant and looked at him expectantly. "You can handle the dishes tonight, right? I want to start getting ready." He looked at me, not sure what to make of this conversation or my slight attitude, but he nodded once. I flashed him a big smile and before racing up the stairs, I threw a "Thanks!" over my shoulder.

I rushed to my closet and threw open the white wooden door. I rifled through it, throwing things I didn't want to wear over my shoulder, and tried to desperately find something that wasn't a tee shirt or tank top. Tonight was meant to be special; not just another boring 'I'm going to blend in' night. Something was different about me, whether from all the liquid courage I drank lately or from just trying to be…enough. Maybe… _he_ left me because I wasn't fun enough—maybe if I had liked attention and parties, maybe if I dressed sexier, he would have stayed around. Well, I'd show that stupid, sparkly vampire.

Finally, when I was getting so desperate that I thought of calling Jake to cancel, I found it; the one key piece that would take my outfit from blah and boring to, well, hot. It was meant to be a Halloween costume the year before, but I'd ended up changing my mind from a superhero to a vampire—go figure. I held the short, black leather skirt in my hands and ran my fingertips across the smooth material. I remember buying it on sale, so I never was able to take it back—and thank God for that, or I would be majorly screwed right now.

Deciding not to be totally all out flashy, I dug through the large pile of clothes on my floor—freshly thrown from my closet—until I found a gray, V neck tee shirt with the words "WILD AT HEART" written in chunky, black letters across it. Slipping on the shirt and skirt, I looked in the mirror and decided I needed a little bit more to complete the "look." As I contemplated what to add, something shiny caught my eye from its place under my bed. Pulling it out, I realized it was a fat, black belt and it was _exactly_ what I needed.

I pulled it on and practically ran to my bathroom, rushing my makeup—a little eyeliner, a bit of smoky gray eye shadow, minimal foundation; done. Deciding I didn't have time to do anything too spectacular with my hair, I turned on my straightener and impatiently waited for it to heat up—tapping my foot, picking at my outfit. Finally, the _beep beep_ signaled it was hot enough and I quickly ran it through sections of my hair, until the natural wave was gone. Once I was done, I stared at my reflection in the mirror—shiny straight hair, smoky yet natural makeup, form fitting outfit—and concluded that I was ready to go. I dashed down the stairs, almost slipping at the bottom, grabbed my black converse and ran out the door.

'_Let the fun begin._' I thought to myself as I jumped in my beat up Chevy and started the engine, headed in the direction of La Push.

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**Reviews would be greatly appreciated. I don't even know if anyone is reading this;**


	4. Chapter 4

_Josey, don't you worry—it's just a phase you're going through, someday you'll know just what to do. Josey, it's alright. Slap the hand that just keeps pouring, it doesn't matter just do something._

"Jake! Let's go!" I yelled out my rolled down window, giving myself a quick glance in my rearview as I waited for him to come out. I couldn't wait to get to this party, and more importantly, be a reckless, stupid teenager who didn't give a flying fuck. I giggled to myself at the thought of cussing in mind; I never had been much of a cusser but, what the hell? I jumped, startled, as Jake gracefully slid into the passenger seat, and he seemed slightly dazzled as I turned and flashed him my best megawatt smile.

"Whoa, Bells, you look…whoa."

"Way to form a coherent thought Jake, but a compliment is a compliment so, thank you." Laughing, I sped off as the tanned, muscular boy next to me fiddled with the radio, finally stopping at a random rock station. He nodded his head with the beat as he stared out the window and I took this moment to subtly check him out—if you could call it that. His thin, form fitting tee shirt didn't leave much to the imagination and for a split second, I had to remind myself that he was 2 years younger than me. The jeans he wore—a light, slightly faded pair—had a couple permanent oil stains, no doubt from him rubbing his hands on them after working on his latest mechanical project. I smiled as I imagined him under the hood of a car, one of the only places where his passion shone through.

"Make a right up ahead." The truck turned and I pushed the pedal almost to the floor, wanting to speed up the driving time. Jake smirked, obviously amused at my lack of patience, and turned down the radio a notch. "Geez, Bella. What's the rush?"

"I just want to get there already-- I'm ready for a good time." My truck seemed to groan as I pushed it go even faster, and soon I realized I didn't even know whose house we were going to. "Where is this party anyway?"

"Sappho. It's at my friend Jordan's house; his parents decided to go on a second honeymoon and well, while the parents are away, the teenagers will play." He gave me an impish smile that obviously said he didn't feel guilty about this at all.

"Wait, he lives in Sappho? You know people off the reservation?" Jake snorted and I looked over at him with a slightly crinkled brow.

"Oh come on, Bella. It's not like we're entirely secluded—we get newcomers from time to time. Honestly, if you have lived on the rez all your life like Embry, Quil, and me, you'd understand what it's like seeing the same people every single day."

A new rock song came on the radio and my hand flew out to turn up the music. The beat made me want to get up and dance, and the sound of the bass guitar reverberated in my chest. I rolled down the windows and let the cool wind blow through my hair, and Jake laughed as he sang along to the unknown song. He tried yelling something over the music and I yelled back at him that I couldn't hear him, but then I realized he couldn't hear what I just said either. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and begrudgingly turned down the music.

"What did you say?" I was giddy from the high of listening to the song that seemed to wake up my soul and throw all my senses into overdrive.

"Jordan's house is right up there." My gaze followed to where he was pointing and it was quite obvious there was a party happening, even from our distance. It was at a rancho type house, with one of those super long, secluded driveways. I drove carefully down the dirt road, a few cars trailing behind me, and made my way up to a large field-- which seemed to be the designated parking area for the night. Music could be heard, even from outside, and tons of people filtered in and out of the beautiful, 2 story building.

Jacob and I jumped out of the car and I straightened out my clothes, before he took my hand and led me inside the house. Cobble stone steps and gravel led the way to a wide open front door, which was almost completely blocked by people. The ground shook from the music and I was grateful for the fact that the nearest house had to be at least a mile away—plus this was too far in for most of the cops to patrol. I stepped through the doorway and was immediately hit with the smell of alcohol, the heat of all the crowded bodies, and faint sounds of a rousing game of beer pong being played in the kitchen.

"There's Jordan! I'll go introduce you guys!" Jacob had to scream to be heard over the music, and I nodded as I looked around at all the new faces, all the new experiences just dying to be done.

"Jordan! Hey! This is Bella! Bella, Jordan!" We shook hands and I had to admit, he was pretty cute. While he looked nothing like the La Push boys, his fair skin and short blonde hair gave him a different kind of appeal. His green eyes shone as he looked at his party, before bringing his eyes back to me and Jake.

"Hey Jake! Nice to meet you Bella! What do you think of the party so far?"

"It's great!" Jake yelled back to him as he looked around and nodded appreciatively. I smiled at Jordan and he winked back, making me blush.

"Yo Jordan! You gotta come check this out! Chuck has caught 23 pretzels in his mouth, IN A ROW! Dude!" A short guy, with light brown spiky hair, ran up to us and started towing Jordan towards the kitchen. Jordan laughed and through the doorway leading to what I guessed was the kitchen, I could see a small crowd forming.

"Well, I've gotta go check this out! You two have fun!" And with a last smile, Jordan was gone, off to see someone get the record for the most amount of pretzels caught in his mouth.

"Hey, keep your eyes open for Quil and Embry! They're both here and they told me earlier they wanted to see you!" I nodded and my eyes scanned through the large crowd of people-- I was surprised there were even this many people in the tiny cities scattered throughout our small region. Luckily, I didn't see anyone from Forks here. The last thing I needed was to have Mike or Jessica breathing down my neck, ready to inform everyone of every last detail of what was going to happen, at this party. Jake and I ended up heading over to the kitchen, where a group of guys were still cheering Chuck on, and we each grabbed a generic red plastic cup and looked at the array of drinks on the granite countertop. Suddenly, I was faced with a small dilemma that I hadn't even given any thought to.

"Jake, do you have your license?" It was easier to hear in the kitchen, which was farther away from the large speakers set up throughout the house. He glanced at me, questioningly, as he filled up his cup with Sierra Mist.

"Yeah, why?" I let out a sigh of relief as a lazy smile lit up my face.

"You wouldn't mind being designated driver tonight, right?" Rolling his eyes, he handed me the bottle of vodka.

"Sure, sure. Have your fun—for tonight anyway." I giggled as I poured I filled a quarter of my cup with vodka, and the rest with lemonade. As I nursed my drink, we strolled outside where a couple people stood around—some smoking, some just talking. We stared out at the night and I felt genuinely happy for the first time in a long time.

Suddenly, someone startled me—causing me to let out a short scream-- by covering my eyes. My heart raced for a second but I could hear Jake laughing, so I knew there was no reason for the irrational fear. Whoever it was took their hands off of my face and I turned around to find a smiling Quil and Embry. My, my what _are_ they feeding these boys? Each of them had gained at least 10 pounds in muscle and were at least a foot taller than they used to be. Quil, while he was already slightly buff, looked almost over muscular but his newfound growth spurt evened him out a little bit. He used to be the shortest one out of the group but now he was at least 6'5". Embry on the other hand used to be skinny but he too became toned and muscular, although he wasn't as tall as Quil—maybe 6'2". I'm sure my eyes popped out a little, but their reaction to me wasn't much different from mine to them.

"Well, well, little Bella Swan has grown up." Quil smirked at me and I playfully glared at him as I nudged him in the shoulder.

"Little? I think you're forgetting that I'm two years older than you." At that, he rolled his eyes and I looked over at Embry who had a playful, yet shy, smile on his face. "Hey Embry."

"Hey Bella. When did you two get here?" His hair, which used to be chin length, was now cut quite short but still had a slight shagginess to it. Not only that, his face had lost its childish roundness and was now more defined, more like a man. His deep brown eyes bore into mine and his gleaming teeth made me lose my breath for second. Everyone looked at me expectantly and it was then that I remembered he had asked me a question.

"Oh! Um, maybe 20 minutes ago?" It came out sounding like a question but everyone just nodded and looked around at the mass of people.

"Good party." Quil commented as I rocked on the balls of my feet. Why was I suddenly nervous? I felt undeniably self conscious and even though I wanted to take my gaze off the night sky, it didn't seem physically possible. Some irrational part of my brain just did not want to get the courage to look the Quileute boys in the eyes. I absently took another big gulp of my lemonade/vodka drink and much too soon found my once full cup entirely too empty. Frowning, I thought of how quickly my drink went—I didn't even feel the buzz yet.

"Well, it seems I've run empty. Anyone want to join me to go get another drink?" I tore my eyes away from the stars and looked straight into molten brown eyes that shook me to my core. Thrown off, I quickly looked at Jacob and then Quil, but neither of them were the ones that spoke.

"I'll go with you—looks like I need a drink of my own." Embry's friendly smile made my heart race, but I forced myself to act cool as he lead the way back into the house. We wove our way through the house but at a particularly crowded spot, he managed to make it through a group of people, while I did not. He kept walking, not noticing I had fallen behind, and even as I tried to shove people out of the way there was no way I would catch up with him if he kept going at the same pace.

"Embry!" I shouted, although I knew it was in vain since there was no possible way he could hear me over the roar of the music. Miraculously though, he did and his head snapped around in my direction. I frantically waved at him and he quickly made his way back to me—looking much more graceful in this setting than I ever thought possible. He looked at ease, in his button up navy shirt—which he rolled up to his elbows—and when he finally reached me, his warm fingers laced through mine and he pulled me until I was positioned in front of him. Once I was in front of him, he placed his left hand on my hip—all the while our right hands still connected over my right shoulder—and maneuvered me through the swarm of party goers.

"So, what's your poison of choice?" He asked me, once we finally made it to the drinks. He himself picked up a liter of Coke and a bottle of Jack, mixing them expertly before looking at me, eyes gleaming.

"Anything, really," I replied as I shrugged my shoulders with a wide smile, "But right now, I want one of _those._" He grinned as he saw I was pointing to his drink, and once again made a Jack and Coke. Handing it to me, he leaned down closer to me and I shivered as I felt his breath on my neck.

"I haven't told you yet but, you look really nice Bella." I blushed as I mumbled a thank you, glancing down at my feet. Why couldn't I grow a spine, accept the damn compliment, and do something totally anti-Bella? After having a mental war with myself, I decided you only live once and did something the old me never would have attempted in a million years.

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